From the Grave
by binge316
Summary: Jorah survives “The Long Night,” and Daenerys finally sees what’s been there all along. Inspired by the song “From the Grave” by James Arthur from the “For the Throne” album. Rated M for later lemons.
1. Chapter 1

"I never meant to leave you there - a crown of roses in your hair along with everything you ever feared. In every step, I see your face, and even though I'm miles away, just close your eyes and you can feel me here."

Jorah's blue eyes snapped open as he struggled against the women tending him. His wounds raged against his movement, and his breaths came in ragged heaves. "Khaleesi," He whimpered. In his eyes, the heartbroken question of her whereabouts was evident.

"She is well, Ser Jorah," The woman assured him. She was clad in the usual warm robes of the North. "You saved her life."

He shook his head vigorously, much to the dislike of his injuries and he winced at the pain. "Where?" He croaked and his eyes searched the room frantically.

The woman gave him a small smile. "She's been at your side almost constantly. I will fetch her for you," The woman said as she eyed the others around his bed. Standing, she walked to the door and disappeared.

Jorah Mormont eyed the other women in confusion. He remembered very little yet, but panic was his resounding feeling. "What happened? What of the dead? The Night King?"

The dark haired woman closest to him shuddered outwardly. "Dead thanks to the Hero of Winterfell - Arya Stark."

Jorah's eyes widened as he digested what had been said. Truthfully, he had expected the final showdown to be between Jon Snow and the Night King. Before he could ask anymore questions, the door to his room burst open and there she stood. Daenerys Targaryen - silvery blonde hair and violet colored eyes. She searched his face and rushed to his side.

Her hands clasped one of his as she pulled a chair closer to his bedside. She looked at the women in the room and nodded toward the door. "Give us a moment."

Once they left, she brought his hand to her lips gently and closed her eyes. Her breath was shaky as she exhaled and her eyes were watery as she looked at his face once more. Her beauty was overwhelming. Other than a cut above her eyebrow, she looked relatively unharmed.

"Jorah..." She whispered. Her voice sounded soft in a way he'd been privileged enough to hear frequently when they were alone.

"Khaleesi..." He whispered as he took in her features.

She snorted at his formality. "Still, you call me that?"

"You are my queen," He said plainly and winced as he tried to adjust himself on the bed. He was clad in only a raggedy shirt. His ribs ached horribly and he knew he'd been badly injured, worse than he'd ever been before in his life.

Her eyes searched his. "I thought I lost you..."

"Never," He shook his head slowly, despite his neck's protests.

A small smile graced her face. "Jorah... You nearly died... Your injuries..."

His brow furrowed. "What happened?"

"We won The Great War," She said proudly, but her face darkened. "At great cost... I lost half of my armies..."

"I am sorry, Khaleesi..."

"I do not wish to discuss such gravities with you right now, Jorah..." She started. Her words held weight in them. "I..."

His eyes searched her face curiously as she struggled for words. He'd looked at her for so many years, heard her speak so many times, and never had she looked so... Nervous.

"I failed you," He said sadly.

"No," She said firmly and his eyes found hers again. "I failed you." He tried to counter her, but she silenced him. "You have been my strength, my most trusted advisor... And yet, I failed you. I could not see what was right in front of me until it was nearly too late. You saved my life. You... Nearly died for me."

"It would have been a good death, Khaleesi."

"I cannot lose you, and I realize that now. I will not make the same mistake again," She said with conviction.

"I pledged myself to you, to serve you, protect you, defend you... It is my duty..."

She shook her head. "Jorah... How could I have been so blind?"

"I don't understand..."

"You have loved me all this time..." A tear fell down her cheek. "And I did not see what it meant until you were dying in my arms on that battle field surrounded by the dead."

"Khaleesi..."

"I have a name."

He studdered and then shut his mouth tightly. Looking away from her, his mind reeled. He'd done his best, hadn't he? They'd won. Why did she sound disappointed?

"Jorah..."

His eyes remained focused on the flames flickering in the hearth. She moved next to him and her pale hand stroked his cheek. Unable to resist her touch, he leaned into her fingers slightly.

"Jorah..." She called for his eyes again, and he could not resist. Blue eyes met purple. "I am so sorry."

"There's no need for you to apologize."

"You have loved me, and I have been blind."

"No," He said firmly. "I have loved you, and you have been a queen." His heart was racing against his battered rib cage.

"Jorah, I am sorry for your suffering."

"I have not suffered," He tried to say, but she sighed heavily and he stopped.

"You deserved more from me. You have deserved love in return. Instead, you've stayed at my side faithfully while I've been with other men."

"You deserve to be happy," He said softly.

"And what if you make me happy, Jorah the Andal?"

"I am not a choice. I am a disgraced Westerosi Knight. I lost all lands and titles to exile and shame."

"Under which queen? Yours will not have that stand when she takes her throne."

He stared at her in disbelief. Her words made little sense to him in his pain and foggy memory. "Khaleesi..."

"You have loved me. Allow me to love you back."

He narrowed his eyes. "Jon Snow?"

She shuddered briefly and her eyes dropped to his bed. "He..."

"What?"

"He's my nephew."

"I..." Jorah stumbled for words. He was normally so calm and collected. Disorientation was unfamiliar territory for him.

"My brother, Rhaegar, had his first marriage annulled. In secret, he wed Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar died. Lyanna died after having Jon, and she swore her brother Ned to secrecy because she knew Robert Baratheon would have the baby murdered if he'd known."

Jorah watched her as she spoke. Confusion colored his stubbled face. "Your nephew?"

"Yes," She said quietly. "It is as much a shock to me as it is to you, I am sure."

"Then... He... He has a claim to your throne," Jorah said suddenly. "He..."

"Yes," Daenerys said and nodded slowly.

"Who else knows?"

"His brother, Brandon, and Samwell. Jon intends to tell Sansa and Arya as well."

"Should he tell them, it will no longer be a secret..."

"He's pledged his fealty to me, to my claim to the throne. He does not want to be king."

"It doesn't matter what he wants."

"I do not wish to argue about Jon Snow," Dany said. "I wish to ask your forgiveness, and to ask for your affections."

"There is nothing to forgive," Jorah said and tried to sit up in the bed, but whimpered in pain when he moved. She winced at seeing him in pain, and stroked his cheek once more. "You've always had my affections." Blushing, he looked away from her.

Leaning toward him as he lay on the bed, she whispered, "Jorah..."

Looking back at her, he swallowed hard. She kissed his cheek several times lightly, and when her mouth moved closer to his, he whimpered and pushed her back gently. "Khaleesi..."

"Stop calling me that," She whispered and studied his face. "This isn't what you want anymore?" She leaned away from him and her face hardened in embarrassment.

He squeezed her hand hard. "On the contrary, it is exactly what I want."

"Then why are you pushing me away?"

"I am not the appropriate choice for you, Khaleesi. You are a queen. You should be with a king."

"You do not get to make my choices for me, Jorah." She chided.

Frowning, he tried to lean forward, to implore her to see reason, but pain tore through his abdomen and he collapsed onto the pillows once more. He saw stars in his eyes as she touched his hair gently.

"Please," He began, but the pain was overpowering.

She silenced him by touching her fingertip to his lips. "Rest now," She said softly. "I will be here when you wake. Rest. That's an order, Ser Jorah the Andal."


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't give up even when I'm gone. Don't give up. From the grave, I'll crawl through the pouring rain. For you, I would pay the cost to be in your arms again."

"They have Missandei," Daenerys growled as she sat stiffly at Jorah's side. "I will fly to parley at dawn."

Jorah eyed her cautiously. He considered his words, and then spoke softly, "How long until Jon Snow arrives with the ground troops?"

"Another week yet," She said. Her voice sounded hollow. "There are so many troops. It takes so long."

"Take me with you, Khaleesi," He said quietly.

She looked at him for the first time in several minutes. She looked like she was about to cry. "No."

"Please... My place is at your side."

"You are not strong enough," She said and looked at his many bandaged wounds. "I cannot lose you, Jorah. You must survive this. If I take you there, you could injure yourself more."

"I cannot lie in this bed uselessly whilst you wage war on Cersei Lannister."

"It is a parley," She reminded him.

His eyes narrowed. "There will be no true parley. Surely, you know this, Khaleesi. You will fight, and I am sworn to fight for you."

"You have fought for me, and now you must heal for me." She grabbed his right hand and cradled it in both of her pale hands.

Looking away from her, he frowned. She would leave without him, leave him injured in the North, which had exiled him, which had hated him, and where he'd nearly died.

Sensing his anger, she said, "I want to keep you safe, Jorah..."

"My place is at your side," He said firmly.

"Your place is where I command it to be," She challenged, and then her face softened. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed each of his fingers. His breath hitched in his injured chest as she watched him.

"Khaleesi..." His voice was a broken whisper as he pulled his hand away from her mouth with much difficulty.

"Why do you still reject me?"

"I am not right for you, my queen," He said softly.

"Do I not have a say in that?"

He ground his teeth as her words hung in the air between them. "There are far better men than I for you, Khaleesi."

She frowned deeply as she watched him struggle with his own emotions and conflictions. "You no longer love me, Jorah?"

"I have never loved you more," He said instantly and his eyes met hers. "When you take the throne, I will not be a fitting king. Westeros will hardly stand for me at the head of your armies. I cannot have you only to lose you. _That _would kill me."

"Nobody will drive us apart, Jorah. This, I swear to you."

A lump formed in his throat, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He was so tired and so very injured still, though it had been well over a week. "Khaleesi... You worry you are not loved here on this side of the Narrow Sea, that the people could not love you... They already do not love me. I know this for certain. Any connection with me will damage your reputation, especially a romantic one."

"When will you think of yourself, Ser Jorah, of what you want? When will you follow your heart?"

"_You _are my heart. I have been following you all these years."

Tears stung her eyes. "Then love me."

"I do. I have. I always will."

Her face hardened slightly, but softened in a moment. "I will prove to you that you are my choice, and that you are a worthy choice. When I return victorious, when I sit on the Iron Throne, I will prove to you that you are my chosen King."

His jaw twitched as he absorbed her words. His heart beat loudly in his ears. She leaned down toward his face and he shivered. Her lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, and he whimpered at the closeness of her lips to his own. So badly, he wanted to turn his head and kiss her well and fully, but he refrained. She pulled away. "Rest, Ser Jorah. It is my command. I will return for you when you are healed enough."

He couldn't help his heartbreak as the door to his room closed with a loud and ominous sound. A lone tear trickled down his cheek as his blue eyes stared into the flames in his fireplace.

Several days later, Jorah had heard the whispers of Missandei's execution and Jaime Lannister's betrayal. Knowing how his queen would be affected and knowing there was another who needed to follow her heart to try to fix things before they were too far gone, Jorah knocked on the door of Brienne of Tarth late at night. Podrick answered the door with a somber look on his face. Opening it fully, he saw Brienne sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands tangled in her short blonde hair.

"Is it true that you intend to go after the Kingslayer?" Jorah questioned.

Brienne scowled at him. "Don't call him that."

"I apologize, Ser Brienne," Jorah amended respectfully, though his dislike of Jaime could not be swallowed entirely. "Do you intend to go after _Ser_ Jaime?"

"Yes," She whispered and wiped her face. Standing, she adjusted her armor. "Lady Sansa has given me leave."

"I wish to go with you."

"For Ser Jaime?"

"For Daenerys," He said and met her gaze evenly.

Her eyes studied his form. His posture wasn't straight, and he was cradling his left side slightly. But she recognized the fierce determination in his eyes. It mirrored the determination she felt about convincing Jaime of his true self. "Can you ride?"

"I have strength enough for this," Jorah said. He hoped he wasn't lying.

"We must leave now."

"My horse is packed," Jorah said. It had been an absolute painful nightmare to do up his horse with his injuries, but somehow he'd managed.

"You need armor," Podrick said.

"Mine is riddled with holes," Jorah said coldly. "And it is too heavy for my wounds."

"Pod, fetch him leather armor. He needs something."

Podrick nodded and left Brienne alone with Jorah. She looked at him. "You love the Dragon Queen, don't you?"

"Yes," He said. His heart wrenched in his chest.

"And I love the Kingslayer," She said bitterly.

"Yes," He repeated. He'd known this about her. Jorah was incredibly observant, and he'd see how they looked at each other. He did not see what Brienne saw in Jaime Lannister, but he believed her an honorable and worthy woman, so there must be some redemption in the man.

"If only we could love other people... Life might be easier."

"Love is not for the faint of heart," He said.

Podrick returned quickly, and helped Jorah put on the thick leather armor of the North. It hurt badly to have the additional weight on his torso and left arm, but he gritted his teeth through the pain. As Brienne and Podrick helped Jorah onto his horse, he wheezed heavily as his wounds felt like they were tearing open again.

"Are you certain you are strong enough for this, Ser Jorah?"

Jorah nodded firmly, though he didn't entirely believe it himself. "Daenerys is in Dragonstone. Jaime has headed to King's Landing. He is one day's journey ahead of you. We must make haste. We will separate at Harrenhal."

Pressing his heels into his horse, the horse began to trot out of Winterfell. Brienne and Podrick flanked him as they made began the long journey that they would try to make as short as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

"The fire, I would walk through for all the pain I caused you. Oh, I would pay the cost to be in your arms again - to be in your arms again - to be in your arms again."

Leaning forward heavily on his horse, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. The trip had allowed his wounds to heal a bit more, but the exhaustion was preventing him from feeling any more well than he had when he'd first left Winterfell. Staring up at Dragonstone as he slid off his equally tired horse, he watched as two Unsullied, Jon Snow, and Tyrion Lannister approached him hurriedly. Collapsing to his hands and knees, he heard their footsteps surround him.

"Mormont!" Tyrion said as he knelt in front of the knight.

"Khaleesi?" He looked up at Tyrion. There were bruise-like bags under his blue eyes.

Tyrion looked grave, and the seriousness on Jon's face, and the two Unsullied soldiers struck fear into Jorah's heart. Tyrion shook his head once. "She will see no one but Grey Worm consistently. She saw Jon once, and me twice. She is not eating."

Jorah collapsed after trying to stand. Jon and one of the Unsullied picked him up. Careful of his left arm, Jon Snow held him up by his waist while the soldier hung Jorah's right arm around his shoulders.

"Take me to her," Jorah breathed heavily.

As the soldier and Jon practically carried Jorah up into the castle, Tyrion talked as he always did. "I worry for her, Mormont. I worry she is slipping into madness, that her grief is too much, that she is lost. You must help her, Jorah. I believe you are the only one who might stand a chance at pulling her out of the darkness."

Jorah looked at Tyrion. It was rare to see true and unabashed worry and fear on Tyrion's face, but it was plain as day now. Jorah swallowed hard as they arrived at the Drawing Room in Dragonstone where Daenerys had held herself up for days now.

"Leave me," He said in a harsh whisper.

Jon looked him over quickly, and then met his eyes. Nodding once to Jorah, Jon left and was followed by the Unsullied soldiers.

"Sansa told me about Jon's true heritage. I told Varys, and he betrayed her. I trusted him, and he was killed for it." Tyrion whispered, "Please, Jorah. Save our Queen." His heels clicked as the smaller man disappeared down the stone hall.

Knocking once on the door, Jorah pushed it open weakly. Her back was to him as she stood staring out of the stone balcony. Her hair was undone and hung limply down her back. She looked thinner even at the distance of the long room. She did not move or even seem to realize someone had entered the room.

"Khaleesi..." He said, and she turned quickly to see him. Her eyes widened and filled with tears. Daenerys practically ran to him and slammed her thin body into his. He grunted in pain at the force of the contact, but wrapped both his injured and non-injured arm around her tightly. Clutching her to his chest, he buried his nose in her silvery-blonde hair. She was weeping into his leather armor.

"I am sorry about Missandei," He whispered against her hair. Taking her proximity for granted, he stroked his right hand down her hair and back repeatedly. His heart beat wildly agains this breastbone.

After a few minutes, her tears slowed and she pulled back to look at him. "You came for me..."

"Of course," He said gruffly. His voice was choked with emotion.

"You disobeyed my orders to stay and heal," She said and raised an eyebrow.

He smiled slightly, and leaned his forehead against hers bravely. "I followed my heart."

She leaned back against the stone table. Pushing herself up, she said firmly with him standing at a respectable distance with her forehead against his. "Jorah..."

"I love you more than any man could ever love a woman, but that love comes second to my love for you as a Commander for his Queen."

She looked at him with an intense confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean? Surely, you didn't come all this way to deny our love again?"

He moved his hands to her face and kissed her forehead. "No, I did not."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Jorah..."

"I must ask you where your head is..." He whispered and searched her violet eyes.

Looking away from him, she clenched her jaw. "Are you here to manipulate me?"

Turning her face back to his roughly, he crashed his mouth against hers fully. The kiss was hard and firm, conveying how much he loved her and supported her, and then it softened as they both relaxed into the realization. He kissed her several times before willing himself with all of his remaining strength to pull back and look at her.

Her eyes were closed. "I want vengeance."

"And so you will have it," He assured her. "You will exact your vengeance how you have always done so."

"And how is that, Jorah?" She started at him. Her eyes were cold, but she was listening.

"Righteously, and in the defense of the innocent." His voice was calm and even though he was nervous to confront her.

She looked down at her lap and picked at her fingers for a moment. When she looked back at him, she was crying. "If I had lost you too, I would have lost myself. Missandei alone is almost too much. If you hadn't come..."

"I will always find you, my Queen - Daenerys Targaryen - in any darkness, through any storm, for the rest of my life."

"You are my strength," She confessed.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "And you are theirs," He said and nodded in the direction of her army and of King's Landing. "And you are mine," He said softly.

"Grey Worm?" She called and the captain appeared instantly in the doorway. Jorah stepped back awkwardly from Daenerys, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back. Jorah's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment. "Bring me my Hand, and Jon Snow."

Grey Worm nodded and disappeared again. Jorah looked at Dany and his eyes were swimming with emotion. "I love you," He whispered so softly she almost didn't hear him.

"And I, you, Jorah."

She slid off the table and walked around it. Pulling a chair out near her, she gestured for Jorah to sit. He limped around the long table, never taking his eyes off of her and sat heavily and painfully in the chair. Her hand rubbed his back over the leather armor, and then she folded her hands behind her back as Jon and Tyrion and Grey Worm appeared.

"We seize control of King's Landing tomorrow," Dany announced.

Jon and Tyrion looked nervously toward Jorah, who nodded once. Tyrion said, "If you hear the bells, Cersei has surrounded. If the bells ring... Call off the attack." Jon nodded.

"You will know when the time to attack has come," Daenerys said and looked at Grey Worm, who nodded once firmly.

Tyrion looked uneasily between Dany and Jorah. Glancing at Jorah, Dany put her hand on his shoulder gently. Jorah's eyes widened as she smiled at him. She was not particularly affectionate, and he blushed again. The Targaryen flames burned in her eyes, and Grey Worm, Tyrion, and Jon knew they would avenge Missandei, and they would not lose their Queen in the process. The tension in the room lessened.

"Jorah rides with me," She said and all eyes snapped to the knight, who looked stunned.


	4. Chapter 4

"Now, I'll always be right where you are. No borders can keep us apart and, on the other side, I'll meet you there." 

Daenerys had disappeared for the moment to talk to her commanders, and that left Jorah alone in the drawing room. Peeling off the leather armor was difficult and painful, but he managed it. It was in his usual thin shirt as he gazed around the room anxiously. The fire was still burning brightly in the hearth.

Ride with her? On Drogon? He'd barely managed to ride a horse with his injuries and, from experience, Drogon was much more difficult to negotiate. If he were to be of any value to her, wouldn't it be fighting as best as he could on the ground? He was a knight, disgraced or not, and was once one of the most distinguished and talented fighters in all of Westeros.

The blade that had sliced his left arm had cut deeply, but not in such a way that would cause permanent damage to its mobility. Probably, at least. The stab wound on his left side, however, was significant, and it had reopened a bit on his journey to Dragonstone. While it was healing, it was still a stab wound and it was risky to ride even just a horse.

The door reopened and Daenerys looked at him carefully. "You look anxious, Ser Jorah."

"I am, Khaleesi," He said quietly. His brow furrowed. "Ride with you?"

"On Drogon," She said and smirked.

"Khaleesi..."

"Daenerys..." She corrected.

"Daenerys," He said softly. "Riding a horse was challenging..."

She frowned slightly and he stopped speaking immediately. He was terrified of upsetting her. She'd endured so much already. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," He said without hesitation and stared at her plainly.

"I was speaking to the Arms Master. I believe we can rig your new armor to allow for very little movement in your torso with a detachable brace. He's also got an idea for a harness, to attach you to me... You wouldn't have to worry about holding your full weight. Drogon is much bigger now, and much more used to a rider... Plus, I've spoken with him about your injuries, and the need for smooth but quick movement."

He studied her for a moment, and then nodded his head slowly once. "Thank you."

"I know you are still worried, even though I know also that you trust me. I will take care of you, Jorah," She said and approached him. She stuck a hand out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her touch instinctively.

"I trust you," He said.

"I would not ask this of you..." She faltered and he narrowed his blue eyes as he watched her struggle for words. "Before you arrived... I felt the madness inside. I felt its seduction. Like a Siren call. I lost Drogo, most of the Dothraki, many Unsullied, Viserion, Rhaegal, and Missandei. Varys betrayed me because Jon Snow betrayed me, and Tyrion betrayed me. I... almost lost you."

He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. "But you didn't. I am here. Where I will be always."

She smiled, though her eyes were watery. "I need this. I need you with me."

"Then with you is where I will be." His face held such determination and ferocious love in it that it nearly broke her. He had always been this man, and she had been blind to it.

She leaned down and stared into his blue eyes as their noses touched. His heart began to race. Their first kisses had been so impassioned, so sudden. This was something else entirely. This was intimate, romantic, in ways Jorah had longed for over the last several years, and in ways that had been absent in Jorah's life for many years before that. His breath hitched in his throat as he struggled with the emotional impact of her proximity.

Her lips met his gently. They were so soft against his, and the stubble over and under his lips tickled her smooth skin. Her tongue sought entrance to his mouth as it shyly grazed his bottom lip, and he obliged. Moaning into the kiss, he touched his hands to the sides of her face as it deepened.

Lowering herself, she straddled his lap. He groaned at the contact, and at the pain of his injuries as her weight, light as she was, pushed on his wounds. Still, their mouths did not separate. They only became more intimately acquainted. He grunted as she leaned down onto him more, and she pulled away.

"Come to bed with me?" She asked coyly.

"I..." He blushed furiously as she removed herself from his lap. "My injuries... I..."

She smiled knowingly. "As much as I would love to have you in that way, I don't imagine the pain would make it truly enjoyable for you, and that's what I would want it to be."

He blushed harder, and she grinned at him. "I still would like you to come to bed with me." He raised an eyebrow and she chuckled. "I want to feel your skin all the same, and I would quite like to kiss you more thoroughly. And then I would like to hold each other."

He swallowed hard and squirmed a bit in the chair. Shuddering, he slammed his mouth shut to stop looking like such a fool.

Smiling, she said, "Unless you have some objection?"

"God, no," He moaned and stood. Taking her hand, he allowed himself to be led to her bedchamber.

Once there, she turned to face him again. She reached to untuck his shirt but he grabbed her wrists gently and a look of discomfort settled on his face.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I am..." He started, and then clenched his jaw several times over. "I am... I have scars... From when I was a knight... From Greyscale, and new injuries the Battle of Winterfell..." Confusion filled her features. "I am no Khal Drogo, or Daario Naharis, or Jon Snow... I am... Older."

Her face hardened and a flash of anger flickered in her violet arms. He recoiled as if she'd struck him, but she touched her hand to his cheek softly. "Look at me." He met her eyes. "Do not ever compare yourself to other men again. _You _are a man amongst men. You are the man that I choose. And I've..." She stumbled for a moment. "I saw your scars... Your wounds... At Winterfell..."

He swallowed again. "This is different."

"How?"

"Well, for starters... I was not conscious then, and very much on the brink of death."

"You're self-conscious... About your body... Now? After everything we've seen and done together...?"

"Yes," He said and looked away from her eyes toward the floor.

"You've nothing to feel self-conscious about. There's nothing I want more right now than to see you and to feel your skin." She assured him. "Allow me?" She said and tugged at his shirt once more. He obliged and allowed her to lift the shirt off his skin gently.

Cersei be damned. War be damned. Grief be damned. Dragon riding be damned. Stress be damned. Injuries be damned. Self-consciousness be damned. He was going to have her in his arms for at least this one night, and nothing would take that from him.


	5. Chapter 5

"So bury me and lock me in, I'll find a way to rise again. I'll break away and find you anywhere. Don't give up even when I'm gone. Don't give up."

Though both of them desperately needed sleep, Jorah and Daenerys stayed up most of the night talking in ways they hadn't previously. She'd known he'd been married once, but hadn't known he'd been married twice. Both marriages had left him with feelings of deep inadequacies that he'd struggled to verbalize whilst they talked, but her physical proximity eased his anxiety and discomfort. If he trusted anyone, it was her, and if she trusted anyone, it was him.

Like Jorah, Dany also had feelings of inadequacy. She was a woman in a largely patriarchal society, and heir to a house rooted consistently in madness and incest. She also had hated, more than he'd ever realized, the fact that she'd been sold like property to Khal Drogo, though she'd grown to love the warrior, by her own flesh and blood brother. She'd been traumatized by those things, by the idea that every time a Targaryen is born, "the gods flip a coin" to determine whether the babe will be mad or not. The losses she'd suffered in this war were many and the pain ran deep. His presence was comforting.

Their talks were mostly of the past, and did not focus much on the impending battle or if the future, but it was nice for both of them to open up to the other in ways they hadn't. They'd spent so many years side-by-side, but both had maintained a level of privacy and had built walls subconsciously.

Eventually, he had drifted off into sleep. His injuries were healing well, but he was exhausted and his body needed rest. Convinced that she would be victorious tomorrow, or that she'd go down in flames and bring King's Landing with her, she rested her head on the right side of his chest. She was curled against his body. Pressing her ear flat against his chest, she could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. She'd nearly lost him, and if she had lost him, in addition to the people she'd lost already, she probably would have lost herself as well. She laid against his body and listened to his heartbeat until she slept.

Sleep was much too short for both of them, and he stirred from the stiffness in his injuries. His pained groan woke her. She glanced at him and realized that, though she'd seen this man on the brink of death, she'd never seen him look so panicked and so disheveled.

His blond hair was sticking up in odd places and he was blushing intensely. "I..."

"Good morning is the usual phrase," She teased him. "It is nearly dawn. We must prepare."

He pulled himself up on the bed and leaned back against the wall. His blue eyes stared at her as she dressed quickly.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I did... I thought this might have been a dream."

"I assure you that it is not, my Knight," She said. She stuck her hand out toward him. "Come. Dress."

Taking her hand, he stood. His wounds protested, as they always did, but they felt a bit better. She helped him dress himself. Once she'd applied his leather armor once more, she stared into his blue eyes. He stared at her. The coming battle began to mount the anxieties within them.

"I..." He started, but faltered and blushed again. Despite the harsh lines war and exhaustion had creased in places on his face, he still had such a gentle look about him.

"I know," She said softly and nodded. "Let's get you fitted." He waited for her to walk ahead of him, and as she stepped past she looked at him. "Stay close to me?"

He gave her a smile and nervous smile, and stepped closed in time with her steps. They walked quickly, but quietly, to the Arms Master. The man looked up at them and handed Jorah what looked like a very uncomfortable cross between corset and a brace.

"This not allow for you to turn too much," The Unsullied Arms Master explained as he slipped it over and around Jorah's leather armor. Trying to turn, Jorah realized the soldier had not been exaggerating. He could hardly twist his torso at all, which was probably for the best since he would not be doing any hand-to-hand combat. The Unsullied Arms Master stepped forward and began attaching some sort of armor to his left side and left upper arm.

When Jorah looked confused, the soldier said, "Reinforcement." Jorah nodded, and adjusted his sword in his belt.

He followed Daenerys toward Drogon. She stopped and looked at him. "How does it feel?"

"It feels sturdy, your grace," He said evenly.

"Are you ready?" She asked cautiously. She could sense his trepidation even though he was doing well at hiding it.

Jorah stepped closer to her and held out his right hand. She placed her hand in his and looked at him. "Today, you take your throne, my Queen. Today, you avenge your dragon children, the Dothraki, the Unsullied, Missandei, and you make it known to the world that Daenerys Targaryen will not be betrayed, and will not be defeated. I am proud of you. I always have been."

She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "Ride with me?"

He followed her up on Drogon, who peered back at the pair. The dragon was sympathetic to Jorah's injuries and crouched down as far as he possibly could to make himself more accessible to the faithful knight. Much to both Daenerys' and Jorah's surprise, Drogon was quite attached to Jorah, and he had been the one who had plucked Jorah, bleeding and dying, from the battlefield and flown the man and his mother to the castle for aid.

Jorah sat behind Daenerys, and his left hand rested on her waist, while his right hand held tightly onto one of Drogon's spikes. Kicking his feet back against two other spikes, Jorah leaned forward into Dany. She looked back at him over her shoulder. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you are making moves."

"I am trying very hard to not make any move," Jorah said and then stopped, realizing what she'd implied. Immediately, he retracted his hand and turned red in the face.

She grabbed his hand and put it back on her waist. "I know you are nervous. I was only joking. Besides, I quite like it."

He swallowed hard. "I apologize for my nervousness."

"Do you hear that, Drogon? Ser Jorah is afraid of flying."

The dragon roared and began sprinting. With thunderous flapping wings, he soared into the air as Jorah clung desperately to Dany and Drogon. His injuries were pulled a bit, but nothing too bad. It was actually quite nice to fly with her. Drogon was coasting along above the clouds, and he allowed himself a moment to bury his nose in Dany's hair.

In a brief break in the clouds, he saw the enormous Iron Fleet far below in the bay. He knew Daenerys and Drogon would have to fly fast, furious, and with an agility that would be talked of for generations, so he gripped both the side and her coat more tightly. He took a deep breath and held it as they began to dive down beneath the clouds.


	6. Chapter 6

"From the grave, I'll crawl through the pouring rain. For you, I would pay the cost to be in your arms again."

Daenerys made quick work of Euron Greyjoy's fleet. He could feel the wound on his abdominals had torn slightly during Drogon's maneuvers. As she soared over King's Landing, the world below was quiet. She had come from the opposite direction to allow for the element of disguise. He noticed she was trembling under his left hand and he massaged his thumb over her hip, tenderly letting her know he was there for her and supported her. Drogon blasted open the gates of King's Landing and the Golden Company, unsurprising in their lack of true loyalty, began to flee as the Unsullied and the Dothraki and the Northmen began their assault.

Swinging around to destroy the remaining Scorpions, Drogon roared loudly, and Jorah felt warmth against his side that told him he was bleeding again. The assault was quick in a way that was unsettling and unnerving. Soon, he sat behind Dany on Drogon perched on a crumbled wall. All of the Scorpions were destroyed. The Iron Fleet was gone, the Lannister army had surrendered, and the Golden Company had fled. Dany's breaths came in uneven heaves and her body was trembling all over.

"Ring the bells!" A soldier cried out from below. Jorah's keen eyes moved over the soldiers as others began to echo the cry for the bells of surrender to ring.

And then, they rang, suddenly and all at once. Clanging and chiming into the air. Daenerys was crying now, but still so very angry. He talked in a low and quiet voice to her as the bells continued ringing. "You have taken your throne, Daenerys..."

She was gasping for air, and Jorah pulled her back into his body. "Missandei... Rhaegal... Viserion... Ser Barristan... My armies..."

"All of those people... This is the moment they wanted for you."

"It's not enough..." She growled and leaned away from him.

"Daenerys..." He said lowly. "Please. Do not become what you've fought so long to distance yourself from..."

"It's not right!" She yelled. "I lost almost everything! It was too easy to sack this city!"

"Those you lost followed you because they loved you. If you continue the assault on King's Landing, it would be a monstrous betrayal to their memory."

She leaned further away from him and Drogon took off toward the Red Keep. Jorah tasted iron in his mouth and knew that riding Drogon had significantly damaged his stab wound. He tried to keep his focus on Daenerys, who was now hovering just outside the Red Keep, and staring down Cersei Lannister, who now stood with tears running down her face next to the body of Qyburn, who looked like he'd had his head smashed and crushed.

Daenerys was enraged and shaking all over as she stared at the woman who had executed one of her closest and most trusted friends. Several Unsullied soldiers surrounded her. She did not fight her own capture and Daenerys urged Drogon off into the distance. Jorah was barely conscious as she observed the surrender. She landed Drogon outside of King's Landing where the Golden Company had been posted.

Sliding painfully off of Drogon, Jorah fell to a knee before Queen Daenerys Targaryen. She looked down at him and, though her face was cold with disused rage, her eyes softened, and she touched his hair.

He coughed hard and blood appeared on the ground before him. Instantly, Dany dropped to her knees before him. "Jorah!"

He coughed again and more blood came out of his mouth, and he fell to his side. Drogon began roaring, trying to draw attention to them. Daenerys pulled his head in her lap, as she had done at Winterfell, and began weeping as she stroked his face. "Jorah!"

"Mm okay," He said gruffly and tried to assure her.

"I should have never asked you to ride with me," She said and looked up as Jon, Davos, Tyrion, and Grey Worm were sprinting toward them.

Davos and Grey Worm peeled off Jorah's armor and recoiled at the sight of Jorah's wound, which was now badly infected and bleeding heavily. Tyrion reached into pocket and pulled out a flask. "It's vodka. It will sting, Mormont," Tyrion warned, but Jorah didn't care. He was sweating profusely as Tyrion poured the alcohol over his infected wound. It stung badly, but almost in a way that felt cleansing and good.

Detaching her cloak, Daenerys pressed it hard against Jorah's wound to stop the bleeding. She looked up at Grey Worm and said, "We need stitching."

"And more vodka," Tyrion said and when he was met with glares, he added, "To keep it sanitary, you drunkards!"

Grey Worm nodded and sprinted back toward some other soldiers. Jon looked grim. "Why was he riding with you, Dany? You saw his wound at Winterfell..."

"Because I asked him to!" She snapped at Jon.

"You shouldn't have. He wasn't even close to healed."

Dany glared at him and then looked back at Jorah who cared only to look at her. She stroked her knight's face as Jorah stared into her eyes. He opened his mouth, but Daenerys stopped him. "Hush. You must conserve your strength."

"I..." He said through the pain. "I have loved you."

"And you will continue to do so at my side," She advised him evenly.

"I don't..." He faltered and she saw fear in his eyes.

"You will not die, Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. Your Queen forbids it!" She said firmly and he relaxed a bit. He could not disobey her. Not now. Not ever. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, and whispered, "I love you."

Grey Worm reappeared. He had a needle, threading, and vodka in hand. Tyrion grabbed the vodka and held it to Jorah's mouth and demanded, "Drink, Mormont."

Jorah obeyed and choked down a large swig of vodka. Daenerys began stitching his side and he twitched and writhed in pain, though he did well to hold himself still for her. Despite the infection and the seriousness of the wound, it still hurt less than when Samwell had torn off pieces of his Greyscale one by one. Unable to stop himself from seeking comfort from Daenerys, he grabbed onto her coattail and gripped it tightly.

"You're nearly done," She said softly to him.

He was scared, more scared than he'd ever been, that he'd had her, and not even really had her, and now he would die and lose her. His grip on her coat was desperate. She finished stitching him, and Tyrion poured more vodka over the wound. Grey Worm had also brought bandages, and Dany fixed those over his angry wound.

"We have stretcher, my Queen," Grey Worm said and two Unsullied soldiers laid the stretcher next to Jorah.

He stifled a cry as Jon, Davos, and Grey Worm moved him to the stretcher. Daenerys walked next to him, her hand on his arm, until they arrived at a tent. A healer came in and gave Jorah Milk of the Poppy, for pain, and a small amount of Essence of Nightshade, to sedate him.

He looked at her fearfully, but Jon interrupted, "I know you want to stay with him, Dany, but your city needs you."

"I can stay with him," Davos offered.

Dany grimaced at the thought of leaving Jorah, and said, "Give us a moment."

Everyone left Dany and Jorah alone. She bent down and kissed his forehead, his cheek, and his mouth softly. "I should have never asked you to ride with me. I knew the risks it would pose you, but my own selfish needs overrode the risks to you... I am so sorry, Jorah..."

"There is nowhere I would rather be than by your side, Khaleesi." His eyes were growing heavy. She looked at him helplessly and gripped his right hand in both of hers. He smiled a gentle smile, medicine numbing his pain and tiring him. "Go, my Queen."

"I do not want to leave you, Jorah," She shook her head and leaned toward him.

He shifted on the bed toward her and grimaced. His eyes were full of fear. "Is it bad?"

She shook her head again. "It was worse at Winterfell. And I forbade you to die, if you remember."

"Yes," He smirked. "I remember." His face grew somber once more, and his eyes were fearful in ways she hadn't seen before. "You'll stay...? Until I fall asleep, I mean. Then, you must go and attend to your armies and the citizens of King's Landing, Khaleesi."

"Of course, I will stay," She assured him.

"And when I wake up, you'll be here?" He asked. His voice shook as he spoke, and his eyelids drooped.

"I will be here when you wake."

"Then, I guess I won't know the difference... It'll be -as if you had stayed," He mumbled. Her hand ran through his blonde hair as he drifted off into a deep, medicated, and healing sleep.

She stayed with him for several moments longer staring at him. He was so brave, and so loyal. He would have died for her any number of times, and too many times, he nearly had.

A healer entered the tent. "I'm sorry, your Grace. I meant only to change his bandages and check the infection."

She stared at Jorah's sleeping form as the healer approached. "How long will he be asleep?"

"At least until morning," She said softly.

"Take care of him," Daenerys said as she stood. "Please."

The healer nodded, and Daenerys walked out of the tent, glancing back at her sleeping bear knight and smiling a little. He was sleeping deeply, and she was glad to see it. They had a kingdom to rule, and they would do it together.


	7. Chapter 7

Author: A bit of fluff to hopefully cheer you up after that "finale."

"The fire I would walk through for all the pain I caused you. Oh, I would pay the cost to be in your arms again, to be in your arms again."

Jorah's recovery was not easy. He was unconscious, partly due to medication and partly due to infection, for a week and a half. During that time, he suffered terrible febrile fits. His first fit occurred while Daenerys was speaking to the Unsullied and the Dothraki armies. Jon has interrupted her as privately as he could in the moment to warn her. She immediately left her post and ran to Jorah's side, where she remained throughout the process. He was moved into King's Landing once the healers felt his condition was stable enough. She ate in his room and slept in his room. Sometimes, she slept in the chair next to his bed. Sometimes, she slept at his side if his fever was not too high. Sometimes, she slept on a small cot. The slightest change in his breathing or bodily movement stirred her.

His fever had broken for two days before he finally woke up, and Daenerys could feel everyone's anxiety at his unconsciousness. He had suffered many fits, and the healers worried that he had sustained such a high fever for such a long while that it might have damaged his brain. Daenerys cried and prayed over him hourly. She refused to leave his side. Any orders she might have to give, she gave from his bedside, and to only those she trusted most. Much of her time was spent wiping his body with cool cloths and fretting over his progress, or lack there of.

The infection was gone from his body, the healers had assured her, but still she worried. She worried until his blue eyes fluttered open and blinked at the ceiling as his mind returned to consciousness.

"Jorah..." She said as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.

He turned his head toward her voice. He blinked several times and squinted his eyes. They were unfocused for a moment, but her violet eyes came into clear view. "D..." His voice was rough from disuse. "Khaleesi..." He seemed uncertain of how to address her, as if he feared it had all been a dream.

She bowed her head against his chest and wept, clutching at his hands with her own. "Jorah..."

He squeezed her hands back lightly. His hands lacked their usual strength. His muscles had atrophied quite a bit because of how ill he'd been, and because of how little they'd been used lately. "What happened?"

She pulled back to look at his face. His sweet face. "Your wound was terribly infected. You had a high fever, and suffered from fever fits. You've been unconscious for nearly a fortnight..."

He blinked and looked confused. "A... Fortnight?"

She nodded and covered her mouth with her right hand. She was crying heavily. "I thought I lost you... I thought I'd been too selfish and the gods were going to take you from me."

"I swore... to serve you. You forbade me to die," He said and coughed.

"I did," She said and gave him a watery smile. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions..."

He shook his head and tugged at her hand. "Of course, but I don't care for answers right now." He was pulling her down onto the bed next to him and scooted gingerly against the stone wall. Rolling onto his left side gently, he tapped the empty space next to him. She laid on her right side facing him. Their faces were mere inches apart as they stared into each other's eyes. "The only thing I care about right now, the only thing I have cared about for many years, is you."

She laid her hand on his cheek and stroked his face with her thumb. His beard was thicker than she'd ever seen it, and his hair was long and curling by his ears. "I have missed you," She whispered.

"I am sorry I worried you," He said quietly. His love for her was so pure and sincere that it calmed every aching nerve in her body.

"Just don't ever do it again," She said. "Or I will feed you to Drogon."

He smiled slightly at her teasing. He ran his fingers over her forearm lightly. "Are you all right?"

She shrugged a bit pathetically and her lip trembled. "I was so worried..."

He frowned and pulled her into his chest. She was careful of his bandages as she wrapped an arm around his back. Her nails scraped his scarred back lightly and he shivered. "I'm sorry. Does that hurt?"

"No," He said gruffly. "It feels good, but it is a strange sensation because of the scarring."

She smiled into his collarbone and resumed her light back scratching. He stroked his fingers on the back of her head gently, lovingly, and in a way that made her feel more safe than she ever had. She could trust him in ways she could never trust another person. Yes, he had betrayed her. Was it betrayal if his loyalties had changed to favor her the moment he truly knew her? Regardless, he had come back to her repeatedly after being sent a way, had found a cure for a normally incurable illness, and had fought and nearly did for her on many occasions. His loyalty to her was unmatched, as was his love and devotion for her.

Eventually, his fingers stopped moving, and his tired body gave into sleep once more. His deep and even breaths served only to calm her more. She pulled out of his embrace slightly to look at his face only to have him unconsciously pull himself closer to her body. She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. She had not slept well in nearly two weeks, and now that her bear knight had returned to this realm, she could rest. Sleep came for her quickly, and soon, her breathing slowed and deepened and synchronized with his.


	8. Chapter 8

"From the grave, I crawl through pouring rain for you. I would pay the cost to be in your arms again."

Jorah slept much of the next several days. When he awoke fully, his head was much more clear. Daenerys was not in his room. Had he, perhaps, driven her away in his weakness?

Moving himself to a seated position was far more difficult than he imagined, but he managed. After pulling his shirt over his head, and slipping on his boots had him feeling as if he could sleep another eight hours. He could not bring himself to even tie his dirty and worn leather boots. Standing, he felt slightly dizzy, but he steadied himself and moved out of the room down the hall. He heard talking down the hall and followed the noise. Soon, he found himself outside the meeting room of Queen's Council.

When he knocked on the door, he heard Daenerys' voice say, "Enter."

Pushing the door open, everyone around the room stood up immediately upon recognizing him. He looked around the room and saw Tyrion Lannister, with his Hand of the King pin across from Daenerys, Bronn, Bran Stark, Samwell Tarly, Grey Worm at her left hand, Brienne of Tarth, and Davos Seaworth. Daenerys stood and stared at him. She smiled. "Ser Jorah!"

Jorah's blue eyes moved to her right, where he met the dark eyes of Jon Snow. A foul jealousy burned in Jorah's stomach. Snow was there, seated at her right hand, and the world had gone on without him. She had moved on from his counsel. Rationally, he knew that he had been recovering, healing, and mostly unconscious, but the sting of envy wasn't so easily dissuaded. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Jorah excused himself and backed out of the room.

"My apologies, your Grace," He bowed his head.

Daenerys face dropped and her brow furrowed. "Ser Jorah!" She called out after him, but he had walked several paces down the hall away from the council.

Tyrion followed him out into the hall and the small man beckoned Jorah to stop. Reluctantly, Jorah stopped in his tracks. His head hung. Tyrion said, "Mormont... Our Queen requests your presence at her council."

Jorah turned angrily toward Tyrion, "Why? So I can watch my loss of her take place with my own eyes?

"Is that what you think is happening?"

"It's what I've seen happen!" He growled at the Lannister man.

"Jorah..."

"You were right, Tyrion. I love her. I have for so many years now. And if she chooses another man, again... If I must stand by again... Then, I should have liked to have died for her instead."

"Tell me. After all you have been through with and for our Queen... Now, you have lost faith?"

"No," Jorah shook his head once. "I have lost her."

Tyrion frowned. "I beg to differ. You should come back with me."

"And watch her choose another man to sit at her side? Again?" Jorah whimpered painfully. "I cannot."

Tyrion looked suddenly very sad. "Trust me, Mormont."

Jorah sighed and looked at Tyrion. "It is our Queen's command?" His voice sounded defeated.

"Yes," Tyrion advised.

He nodded and swallowed hard. "Very well."

Tyrion led Jorah back into the council room. His blue eyes were trained on the floor. Daenerys stood, but he did not make eye contact.

"Ser Jorah Mormont," She said firmly. "Am I no longer your Queen?"

Instantly, and a bit painfully, he dropped to one knee. "You are, Khaleesi. You have been always."

"Rise, Ser Jorah Mormont." He stood slowly. "Look at me," She demanded, and he obeyed.

Her face softened. "On this day, I, Queen Daenerys Targaryen, first of my name, hereby pardon Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. His knighthood, land, and titles shall be fully restored from this day hence."

His blue eyes widened as he stared at her in disbelief. His mouth dropped open as he processed her words, processed what she had done for him. "Your Grace..."

She walked around the long table toward him and stood directly in front of him. The people around the table adjusted themselves to watch the exchange.

"However, Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, should you be late to, or skip, any future council meetings, there will be punishment," She warned.

His head dropped immediately. "I apologize, Khaleesi."

"Should you be late, or absent, it would be most unbecoming of my intended King Consort."

The room collectively took a massive intake of breath. His eyes snapped to hers, and he searched her face for any sign of jest. "What did you call me?"

She smiled. "My intended King Consort."

"Is there such a thing?" The title was lofty, beyond fathoming for Jorah. Jorah was a high born man, but he had no real concept of that particular title. He had no idea what it meant.

"There is now," She shrugged.

"Your Grace, I..." He blushed and looked away from her toward the other people, who were all smiling brightly at him.

"You..." He said. "I..." He paled and she touched his face. He flinched slightly at the display of intimacy and affection and the redness on his cheeks deepened.

"You look so very tired," She said softly. "You should rest. I will excuse your absence from this particular council meeting."

He nodded, and brought her hands to his lips. Kissing them lightly, he glanced at her face before turning toward the door. He took one step and she called, "Jorah?"

He looked back at her, into her violet eyes. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"You've not given me an answer. I am trying not to take offense, but I have an ego as well," She said.

"An answer?" He looked confused. His mind was buzzing with a thousand thoughts. His body aches and he was tired.

"Will you rule at my side, as my King Consort?"

"Daenerys," He said and then looked at the floor as he felt embarrassed at his informality. _King Consort. _He understood now. The Consort title was usually only afforded to women. The power still rested with the King in those instances ultimately, but the Queen Consort was treated with the same amount of respect and held to the same level of importance. "That's... Marriage."

She looked at him with one dark eyebrow raised. "Yes."

"That... You're asking... Proposing... Marriage?" He stepped back a pace in shock. His heart pounded in his ears and his legs felt weak.

"Yes."

He stared at her for a moment in utter disbelief and shock. His mouth was slightly agape. The room was silent with an expecting heaviness in it. His eyes moved from her face to the ground and then back to her face.

"Yes," He breathed and dropped to his knee once more. "A thousand times, yes." He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes to stave off the threatening tears.

"Then rise," She commanded. "A King Consort does not kneel to the Queen."

He stood and she grabbed his hand. "You must rest, and I must finish this meeting. I will come to you afterward."

He nodded. His mind was a hazy mess of happiness and he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions. "Yes, my Queen."

She smiled at him, and leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Her kiss was long enough to convey her love for him to him, and to all the in the room. When she pulled back, he turned and left the room. Behind him, a room full of people smiled ear to ear as the door closed.


	9. Chapter 9

"It's a long night and a big crowd under these lights looking round for you. Yeah, I'm stepping outside under moonlight to get my head right, looking out for you."

Dany opened the door to his bedroom after knocking, and he woke up to watch her walk into his room. Pushing himself up and off the bed, he stood before her. He was still fully clothed, but barefoot. He was staring at her as if it were the last time he'd ever see her.

"Do you feel more rested?"

"I did not sleep," He said. His voice was deep and gruff.

"Why not? Are you in pain?" She asked with concern.

"No," He said and looked away from her. "I fear if I were to do that, then this might all turn into just a dream."

She stepped closer to him, and stared into his eyes and brought her hands to either side of his face. "You need a shave," She teased.

He chuckled slightly. "My apologies."

"How do your wounds feel?"

"A bit tender, but significantly better." He mirroed her actions and cradled her face in his hands.

Toying with the strings on his shirt, she looked at him coyly. "You will marry me?"

"It would be my honor," He said. His voice was lower than she'd ever heard it.

"You said you're feeling better?"

"Yes," He said. His eyes searched her face. He was fairly confident he knew where she was going with the conversation, but did not want to be presumptuous.

She stood on her tip toes and crashed her lips against his. He met her passion with equal measure, and moved his hands to her waist, pulling her body against his fully. Her skin was so much warmer than a normal body, and he craved the warmth unlike anything else he'd ever desired in his life. His mouth was hungry for her.

Pushing him back, he sat gently on the bed and she moved him back until he was leaned against the stone wall. She moved her mouth from his to his jaw and down the side of his neck. He groaned deep in his throat as she straddled his lap. Moving his hands to her hips, he ground her against his hard length. It had been so very long since Jorah had the affections of women. Once he'd met Daenerys, no other woman could even keep his attention for a moment. She pulled his shirt over his head, and he fumbled with the strings on her dress. Finally breaking free of their clothing, they clutched at each other's skin desperately.

He stopped for a moment before he lost his senses completely. Pulling her away from him slightly, he met her heated gaze. "Are you certain of me? That I am your choice? Daenerys, I could not bear to lose you..."

"I have never been more certain of anything in my entire life," She whispered and resumed her onslaught of kisses on his neck and behind his ear.

He surrendered to her lips and moaned helplessly beneath her. "Lie down," She whispered smoothly.

He obeyed her and his eyes moved over her porcelain skinned body. "You are so beautiful," He whispered. Realizing his own scarring and imperfections and age, he shrunk back into the bed and tried to disappear.

She smiled at him. "Stop, my love," She commanded softly. "You are beautiful as well."

He froze, and then whimpered, "Your love?"

"Oh, yes," She leaned down over him. Her silver hair cascaded around his face. "My love."

His fingers trailed up and down her thighs and over her back. She reached between them and grabbed his length firmly. He gasped. "Daenerys... I... It has been quite some time."

"We will have many more nights together, Jorah... I need to feel you inside of me."

He shuddered at her boldness, at the heavy sexuality on her tongue. Goosebumps prickled his skin and his hair stood up on end. She stroked him and he bucked involuntarily in her soft hand.

She paused for a moment and looked at his face. His cheeks were flushed. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were flames of desire. She looked at the bandages on his lower abdomen and asked, "Please tell me to stop if it hurts too badly."

"I do not care how much it hurts. I will never tell you to stop," He said moaned.

She smiled and slid down onto him slowly. Her hot, wet sex tightened around his manhood, and he ground against her eagerly. She leaned back and began to ride him slowly. Dany savored the feel of his large, thick length inside of her. He felt so good, so right, reaching all the right places without hurting and curving inside her in just the right way.

He was biting his lip, and she leaned down to kiss him again. His fingers ran down the length of her back and settled low on her hips. "I love you," He grunted.

She moaned in response as she rode him a little faster. "You are mine, Jorah Mormont. No other woman shall touch you. No other woman shall have your body, or your heart."

"There is no one for me, but you."

She ground against him hard and he grunted against her lips. "And I am yours for all the days of my life."

"Mine," He grunted into her. "Daenerys... I," He choked on his closeness to his own completion.

"Give me what's mine, Jorah," She demanded.

His back arched off of the bed as he buried himself into her one last time, and emptied deep inside of her. She held still on him while their breathing slowed into post-ecstatic panting. She rolled off of him as he softened and cuddled against his chest. His heart was beating rapidly.

Her fingers danced circles across his scarred chest as he calmed himself and began to tire. "I love you," He said. "I have always loved you. I will always love you."

"You are mine," She whispered to him. "Mine as I am yours."

He pulled her closer to his body, as close as physically possible. He traced his fingertips over her delicate shoulder. Listening to her breathing slow and even, he smiled against her hair. Never could he love another person more than he loved Daenerys Stormborn.


	10. Chapter 10

"Could it be your eyes, didn't know that I've, been waiting and waiting for you. When you're by my side everything's alright. I'm crazy, I'm crazy for you."

Over the next two weeks, Jorah learned many things that his infection had kept him from. Sansa Stark and Yara Greyjoy were given the ability to rule themselves as independent nations. Yara ultimately declined, and Sansa accepted. Sansa Stark was cool and collected in ways that disarmed Jorah, but the Stark woman had sworn an unending alliance to the Six Kingdoms should it ever be needed. They would also trade freely and function as siblings.

He also learned that Brienne of Tarth had, in fact, reached Jaime Lannister in time to dissuade him from returning to Cersei. It turned out that Jaime had intended to try to get close to Cersei, believing he could be the only one that could, to convince her to surrender, or to kill her if it came to that. She remained locked in a cell while Daenerys debated what exactly to do with her. Jorah's intended had not expected to find Cersei to be with child, and she had no intention of murdering an unborn child.

Brienne offered to raise the child with Jaime, much to his surprise, as her own. It would not be so far fetched to the outside world who would know nothing of the child's true parentage. They were both tall, and blonde, though Daenerys worried privately when conversing with Jorah that the child might turn out like Joffrey, or Cersei.

"Cersei Lannister is many things, but she is not the same kind of person as Joffrey. Jaime and Cersei also birthed two other children, who were kind and gentle and good. You know well yourself that children are not their parents."

"Jaime has not pleaded for her life, and nor has Tyrion."

"This troubles you?" Jorah asked her while they ate lunch in her rooms.

"Jaime was utterly devoted to her, and Tyrion has only one sister, and has proven to have strong loyalty to his family - despite their shortcomings."

"I do not entirely trust Jaime Lannister, nor will I ever, but I trust Brienne of Tarth, and I saw how they fought together, how they fought for each other at Winterfell. Tyrion is a good man, even if he talks too much."

"Jaime killed my father."

Jorah nodded. "He did."

"He told me what happened. His side, of course, and I... I believe him. Is that terrible of me? Is it a betrayal of my family?"

"No. You are too hard on yourself. You have just admitted that Jaime and Tyrion both love Cersei, though they fully acknowledge her wrongdoings and shortcomings and accept her fate, yet you will not afford yourself the same grace."

"Brienne trusts him with her life."

"She does." Jorah could not deny this.

"There must be honor in him yet, then."

"Perhaps," Jorah said.

Daenerys changed the subject. "Lyanna Mormont has requested you visit Bear Island."

Jorah choked on his wine slightly, and then apologized. Looking at his plate, he sighed. "I am sure she wants to discuss who will rule Bear Island now that you have restored my titles."

"What do you think of that?"

"She is the Lady of Bear Island. I may have regained the right to wear the sigil, to have claims in the goings-on of the House, but she is their Lady. I have no intention to try and take that from her. She deserves it far more than I ever could. I have never even wanted to rule."

"Yet you are marrying the Queen of the Six Kingdoms, and Bear Island has declared allegiance to the Starks. Sansa is their Queen."

"I am not marrying you for titles. Besides, we cannot help who we love. And a King Consort does not rule. Bear Island declared for the North, but the North declared an unwavering and unending alliance to you, to the Six Kingdoms."

She smirked at him. "I am only teasing. I know it will be good to see Bear Island, to see where you are from."

"You will come with me?"

"Of course! I need to visit Queen Sansa as well." There was a knock at her door, and she called, "Enter!"

Grey Worm stood at her door. "I apologize, my Queen. Daario Naharis is here to see you. He is waiting in the Throne Room."

Daenerys looked from Grey Worm to Jorah. Jorah's face had hardened and his jaw muscle was twitching. "Very well. We will come and see him." Jorah's blue eyes snapped to hers and, within them, they held a barely contained jealousy. "Come now. Jealousy does not become you."

"He's _annoying,_" Jorah growled.

He followed her and Grey Worm to the Throne Room and saw Daario standing and nonchalantly flipping that bloody knife of his.

"My Queen!" He outstretched his arms and kneeled.

"Daario. How are things in Meereen?"

"Lovely," He said and smiled at her. "And things are lovely here as well I hear."

"Indeed they are," Daenerys said. "What is it that you need?"

"Am I to continue overseeing things in Meereen for you, Your Grace?"

"Yes."

Daario looked reflective for a moment. "I wished a private audience, if I might," Daario looked arrogantly at Jorah, who visibly stiffened.

"Jorah is my betrothed. Anything you wish to say to me you can say in front of him," Dany said and her voice was chilly.

"So, it's true then?" Daario stepped forward. "You finally won, old man?"

Jorah stepped toward Daario angrily, but Daenerys held up a hand. "Mind your tongue."

"Truthfully, I am happy for you, Mormont. If not me, then I had hoped it would be you."

He approached Daenerys and took her hand a bit too casually. "Are you certain about him, Dany? Sure, he acts honorable and the general opinion of him is that he _is _honorable, but he has already betrayed you once, and he was exiled for betraying his House and the laws of Westeros."

Dany swiped her hand away, and Jorah stepped in front of her. "You are speaking to your Queen. I will not remind you of that again. If you touch her again, I will lose all semblance of honor, and you will pay dearly. This, I swear to you."

"Apologies, Your Grace." There was a singsong tone in his words that caused Jorah to grind his molars together.

"Return to Meereen, Daario. I will be in contact soon."

"Looking forward to it, Your Grace," Daario said and winked at Jorah. The man turned on his heel and walked from the castle while flipping his knife the entire way out of sight.

"I did not mean to step upon your toes," Jorah said apologetically.

"Do you remember what I said earlier about you and jealousy?" She asked and cocked an eyebrow.

Jorah's head dropped. "You said that it was unbecoming."

"I've changed my mind..." She said seductively.

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped over again. While they had made love several times in the last couple of weeks, he still found himself in utter awe over the fact that she would share a bed with him. "Have you, now?" He asked playfully.

"Come and see how changed it is," She teased and beckoned him out of the Throne Room.


	11. Chapter 11

"'Cos I fall, I fall for you. You caught me at my weakest. I fall, I fall for you, you caught me at my weakest, and I fall for you."

"Your cousin has responded that she, and Sansa Stark, will visit us, to congratulate us on our upcoming marriage. I still would like to go to Bear Island soon."

Jorah stared into the fire. His eyes were glazed over as he nodded to her statement.

"What should I do with Jon Snow?" She asked. "He's... Family. The only family I have left. He could continue our House."

Jorah's eyes were out-of-focus and Dany's voice seemed to be distant. She touched his shoulder and he came back to reality. "My apologies."

"Whatever is on your mind? You were a million miles away just now."

He turned slightly to face her. His face was solemn. "We never discussed my betrayal of you."

Her eyebrows pinched together. "Why would we? I forgave you. It is in the past."

"People who know of it will use it against me, against you, for the rest of my days." His eyes travelled back to the hearth. She could see the flames reflecting in his blue eyes. "I have done many things for which I will be forever sorry, but nothing is worse than betraying you. Even stating the fact of it makes my stomach turn."

She moved closer to him and touched his arm. He didn't look at her as he continued to speak. "I had been in exile for many years when I met you. I was desperate for forgiveness, and more desperate still for home. I had the chance to have both, and I took it. Even when I began to see you as the benevolent yet ferocious ruler you are, still I wanted home. I was broken, lonely, and weak."

Daenerys looked up at his face and saw a lone tear trickle down his cheek. Pulling him to face her, he met her violet eyes. "I am sorry, Daenerys. I will _never _betray you again."

She smiled softly at him. "Do you think that if I thought otherwise, you would be standing here in my bedchamber?"

His eyes searched hers. "Probably not."

"Your relationship to me, with me, cannot be summed up in that one thing - betrayal. Yes, you did betray me," She said and his eyes moved away to the floor and shame colored his face. "But I banished you. Twice. You came back. Twice. You saved my life more times than I can count. You nearly died for me. You are human, and that makes you fallible and flawed, but it does not make you any less honorable or trustworthy."

His eyes met hers again slowly. There was a timid hope within their blue depths. She stroked his cheek and reflexively he leaned into her hand. She said, "In your life, you have done everything you can to make the women you have loved happy." His lip trembled. It was one of his deepest insecurities. Biting his lip to stop its quivering, he swallowed hard. "I need nothing from you, but your love and loyalty. I have both of those things. Of that, I am certain. _You _make me happy, Jorah."

Unable to contain his emotions, he shuddered visibly. He was usually so stoic and composed. She stepped closer, holding his hands in hers. "Are you certain?"

Her brow furrowed. "Certain of what?" Frustration filled her body.

"Your choice in me," He said quietly. He was ashamed of his weakness.

"We've discussed this," She said. There was frustration in her voice. "When will you stop doubting my choice?" He pulled his hands away and turned toward the hearth. She stared at him, but he didn't look at her. His jaw was flexing slowly. He looked so sad. "Jorah..."

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "At Winterfell, I heard the dragon cry out into the night. I thought I lost you. I thought you had fallen. When I saw you, on the ground amongst all of the dead..." He stopped and swallowed hard. "I thought I knew fear then, but I..."

She touched his arm gently. "My love..."

He shook his head. "I was so afraid then. I thought I could never be that afraid ever again. In that moment, I feared for your life, that I could lose you, but I am just as afraid now, and this fear is constant..."

"You're afraid now?"

"Yes. I am afraid. Losing you, in any capacity, is my greatest fear." His eyes met hers once more.

"You're not alone in that fear..."

He looked confused. Jorah's blue eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You were dying in my arms!" She said in exasperation. He turned to face her fully. She hit his chest lightly with her fist. "You were dying! You were bleeding so badly. I was so afraid you would not make it. You kept saying 'I'm hurt' over and over, and then you looked at me and I knew. I just knew... I'd missed everything. I loved Khal Drogo. I love him still, but Jorah... I thought I realized too late just how much I also love you."

He pulled her into his chest and she cried for a moment before continuing. "I waited at your bedside fretting over your progress. I listened for every breath anxiously. I have never been more afraid."

Holding her to his body, he cradled the back of her head. "I cannot believe this is real. That you would choose me." He meant it to be endearing, but she pulled away from him suddenly.

Her face was stony. "If you cannot believe it, if you doubt it, then perhaps you are not sure you want to be my King."

"Daenerys..." His face conveyed more pain than when she had banished him either time. "I apologize..."

She stared at him coolly. "A king must be confident, and he must be the unwavering partner for his Queen. He would not question her, and he certainly would not doubt her choice in him."

"Daenerys, please..." He begged.

She stepped away from him a pace. "Ser Jorah... Do you want to be just my advisor and my friend? Do you want to leave my service? Do you want to be my advisor, my husband, and my King? Which life is the life you want?"

"I have never wanted any life without you by my side from the moment I first loved you."

"Yet, you doubt my choice in you romantically?"

"It is not you I doubt..." He said quietly and his eyes dropped to the floor. Then, he kneeled before her. "Forgive my weakness."

"You doubt yourself? Why?"

"I do not view myself as worthy, though I also know that no other man could be half as true to you as I am, or love you even a fraction of what I do."

"What do you want?"

"You."

"How?"

"As my wife," He said lowly. There was a seductive tone in his voice. Heated.

"You will no longer doubt yourself? No longer doubt that you are the chosen king?"

"Never again," He said seriously.

"Prove it."

Pulling her body against his, his hands gripped her hips tightly. He ground her against his already hardened length and she moaned in her mouth. He was still not completely healed. He'd taken more punishment on the battle field than Beric had taken in the Great Hall, and than Hodor had taken at the door, but nothing would stop him now from claiming what was his.

He made quick work of her night clothing. She was fully naked and he was fully clothed. The faithful knight inside of him roared at the control the normally submissive man felt. No. Not the knight. The king.

Jorah walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. Sweeping his right hand behind her back, he laid her down quickly. Standing up and admiring the view, her legs open for him already, and he slowly undid the ties at his collar.

His eyes raked over her naked body. She arched off the bed to tease him. He pulled his shirt over his head and exposed his chest. She could see his arousal straining against his trousers. He touched it briefly as he looked at her squirming for him, and moaned when he did. His chest was half scarred and half hairy, but all manly. Fresh scars, reddened and rope-like, littered his body, but none were like the one on the left side of his abdomen. That one had been nearly fatal. It was bruised around it, a healing bruise - yellow and greenish that spread to his hipbone and up to his rib cage. His chest heaved with arousal as he slowly undid his pants and let them fall to the floor.

Standing before her, he stroked himself. She whimpered as she watched him. Jorah kneeled, and rested both of his hands on her thighs. Meeting her gaze, he began to kiss up her inner left thigh. He could smell her desire already and it only served to encourage him. Reaching the curls at her sex, he met his tongue slide in. She tasted so sweet. He moaned against her and she arched as the vibration of his moan touched her most sensitive parts.

Moving her legs so that they were over his shoulders, he devoured her. His tongue teased her sex and had her begging for more contact. She cried out as she lost herself for the first time on his tongue. His tongue stayed on her until she came back down from the throes of ecstasy. Moving back to her thigh, he continued kissing her skin. He moved to her hip bone and dragged his tongue over the sharp curve of it. She giggled as it tickled and he smiled at her. His mouth moved around her belly button, over her sternum, up her neck, and finally settled on her mouth.

The head of his length brushed against her entrance and she reached for it. He grabbed her wrist and flipped her over with an ease that would've fooled anyone about the gravity of his injuries. Pushing up her right leg, planting his elbow in her back, and grabbing a fistful of that Targaryen silver hair, he pulled her head back. Leaning over her, he bit down hard on her shoulder as he entered her fully. She cried out at the feel of him filling her, and the angle of him inside of her. His left hand stayed in her hair as his right hand wound around her stomach and pulled her back more against him.

He pumped into her slowly, which only served to bring her to the edge more quickly. She arched harder into him. "I am your chosen King," He grunted in her ear.

"Yes," She moaned in response. He quickened his pace slightly so that she was crying out steadily, as her pleasure built once more.

"Let go, Daenerys," He demanded lowly against her cheek. She fell apart on his thick length and he held himself inside of her as she twitched and convulsed around him. Releasing her, she collapsed onto the bed.

"Turn over," He said. "I want to look into your eyes when I lose myself inside of you."

She moaned at his demand and obeyed. He was wild tonight, unrestrained, demanding, and she loved every bit of it. He entered her again and pushed into her over and over. Harder and harder. He was close, and soon she was too. He curved just right inside of her. Every stroke drove her man. He leaned down over her and she wrapped her legs around his back, allowing him even deeper inside of her. He shuddered as she tightened around him.

He grunted as he neared the edge, and she bit her lip. He could tell she was close again by the way she squirm against his hips as he thrust into her. Smirking sexily and arching an eyebrow, he adjusted his hips slightly to hit that spot inside of her more fully. One thumb moved to her nub and moved quick flicks back and forth over it. She cried out with each thrust. And then, they were both suddenly falling over the edge together. He came deep inside of her, and she came all over him, staring into each other's eyes.

She smiled as she calmed her breathing. "You certainly are king of something already."

"Mmm?" He mumbled as he pulled the sheets over them and cuddled against her body.

"King of the Sex Kingdoms, at least. We'll see how you do with the Six," She teased as she held his head against her chest.

He chuckled. "I live to serve you, my Queen." She suddenly felt as tired as he appeared, but stayed up a few minutes more to listen to his breathing slow as he drifted off to sleep while listening to her heart beat against his ear.


	12. Chapter 12

"Nah, It's a long night and a big crowd under these lights looking 'round for you. Mmm hmm. You, you give me hope, right, reason, desire livin' this life - only now, for you."

"Lady Mormont and Queen Sansa have arrived. We are nearly ready for dinner, my Queen," Grey Worm announced at the doorway.

"Thank you," Daenerys said. She turned to Jorah, who looked a bit nervous. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," He said quietly and nodded.

"Let us go and greet our guests," She smiled at him. She followed Grey Worm to the Throne Room, and Jorah followed closely behind her.

Jorah peered over Dany's head as they approached Lyanna and Sansa.

"Lady Mormont," Daenerys greeted, "Queen Sansa."

"Your Grace," They said in unison.

Lyanna met Jorah's eyes, and he approached her uncertainly. This was his cousin. When he'd been banished, she'd been no more than an infant.

She outstretched her hands to him, and he held them and kissed her knuckles. "My Lady," He said.

"Cousin," She said quietly. She was as cool as other Northern women, but she seemed genuinely happy to see him.

"I am glad you are healed," Jorah said as he searched her face. "That Giant wight truly stood no chance," He smirked.

She smirked back at him. "We're not a large house, cousin, but we are a proud one. You know this."

"I do," He said and nodded once before looking toward Sansa.

He bowed respectfully and said, "Your Grace."

Sansa's cool blue eyes moved over his face and then down his body. "Ser Jorah. I am glad to see you are well."

"I am feeling much better, yes. Thank you," He said.

"Dinner is ready," A servant said from off to their right.

"Sansa!" A voice called from behind Jorah and Dany.

Jorah turned to see Jon walking quickly toward Sansa. Sansa embraced him tightly as he kissed her cheek. "It's good to see you, Sansa."

"It's good to see you, too, Jon," She said.

"Lady Mormont," Jon said and bowed to the young lady.

She nodded at him, and then the group followed Grey Worm to dinner. The table was smaller than usual for a formal dinner, much more intimate. Daenerys sat at one end, and Sansa at the other. Lady Brienne, who greeted Sansa with respectful enthusiasm, sat to Sansa's left. Lady Mormont sat to her right. Jon sat next to Lady Mormont, across from Davos. Grey Worm sat across from Bronn, and Tyrion sat at Daenery's left hand, and Jorah sat to her right. As the wine was poured, an uncomfortable silence fell upon the group.

"I appreciate you hosting us, Your Grace."

"Please," Dany said. "There is no use for such formalities over dinner. Call me Daenerys," Dany offered. Jorah glanced at Sansa to judge the younger woman's reaction to such an offer of intimacy.

Sansa smiled. "Then you must call me Sansa."

"You will always be welcome in King's Landing. I desire a strong and close relationship between our lands. Trade will be fruitful. The relationship will be peaceful. We can be each other's strongest allies."

Sansa's brow furrowed. "Yes, I understand that. You desire those things, and yet you are marrying a man who betrayed the North, betrayed my father, my lands."

Jorah's heart sank immediately and his eyes fell to his hands in his lap. The table tensed. Daenerys sipped her wine and then set her cup down. "I can certainly understand your reservations. I have found Ser Jorah beyond worthy of forgiveness. It is my hope that you will as well."

Sansa looked to Jorah, who met her gaze hesitantly. "Why did you do it? Why did you sell slaves?"

Jorah looked nervously at Daenerys. She nodded at Jorah to speak. He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. "My Second wife... She was accustomed to the finer things in life. In the North, we are not swimming in that kind of wealth, as you well know. Even the largest houses are modest financially."

Sansa cocked her head to one side with interest. She clearly hadn't expected Jorah to answer, or perhaps for Dany to allow him to speak on his own behalf. "Yes."

"I merely wanted to allow her to continue to live the way she had, to have the things she wanted. I wanted to make her happy, to keep her happy. How I went about achieving that kind of income for her was egregious. Your father was right to exile me."

Sansa nodded. "Selling slaves is no petty crime."

"No," Jorah admitted. "It is not."

"What does Lady Mormont think of Jorah? He is a Mormont after all," Sansa asked.

"He is a Mormont," Lyanna said firmly. "Whatever his crimes were, they were before my time as Lady of House Mormont. I saw him fight at Winterfell. He is a fierce warrior, loyal, and brave. He fights like a Mormont, and a Mormont he will always be. My loyalty is to you, Your Grace, and your word is final," She looked at Sansa. "But he is my family."

Sansa studied Jorah for a moment. "You would forgive him?"

"Yes," Lady Mormont said without hesitation.

"You would fight beside him again, if the time came?"

"Yes."

Sansa looked at Jorah coolly. "Lady Mormont was one of House Stark's most loyal and fierce allies. If she can find it in her heart to forgive you, then I suppose I shall endeavor to do so as well."

Jorah's heart was racing. He felt like crying and vomiting at the same time. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Sansa nodded. "If your marriage bears children, which name will they carry?"

Daenerys hesitated. She was clearly caught off guard by the question.

"Targaryen," Jorah answered seriously. "Lady Mormont is the Lady of House. Her children will be the heirs."

Lady Mormont looked shocked, but pleased with Jorah's answer. Daenerys looked at Jorah in awe. She hadn't expected him to say that, to give up his right as a father to have his children bear his name. House Mormont was small, but it was mighty and prideful, and for him to want any children they might have, if she could even have them, which she doubted, to bear her last name, was a profound statement.

"That brings me to my next question. What do you plan to do with Jon?"

The table fell silent. All eyes shifted between Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen. Nobody seemed to breath as the question was disgested by everyone.


	13. Chapter 13

Reviewers: You are all so amazing! Like you, I am mourning the loss of some of my all-time favorite fictional characters. He deserved better, and so did Daenerys. Keep reviewing! You are my muse!

"When you're by side everything's alright.

I'm crazy, I'm crazy for you. Oh, here I go down that road. Again and again, the fool rushin' in, but can't help when I feel some kind of way."

"I suppose Jon's future is up to him," Daenerys answered coolly. "What is it you desire, Jon Snow?" Her violet eyes settled on the dark haired younger man.

Jorah looked nervously at Jon, who looked equally as anxious. Sansa asked, "What are his options in King's Landing? He is my family, and the North is his home."

"Jon is my family as well, and he is also not my prisoner. He can come and go as he wishes," Daenerys said.

Jon was focusing on his plate. "What are my options?"

"Legitimacy," Dany said. "I will legitimize you under your birth name - Aegon Targaryen. You may hold whatever title you wish."

"You can be Warden of the North. I can legitimize you as a Stark," Sansa pointedly said.

Jon looked at her and shook his head. "My mother was a Stark, but I'm not a Stark. Not technically at least."

"You're family," Sansa said.

"Yes. We are," Jon said and smiled softly. "I don't want to be asked to choose between my family members."

Daenerys looked at him for a moment. "Then you can be Warden of the Seven Kingdoms. A neutral diplomat and commander."

Jon looked at Dany with wide eyes. Then, he looked at Sansa, who seemed to be contemplating her statement. "He is someone we both trust implicitly."

"He is, Indeed," Dany agreed.

"What of the other Wardens?"

"We can still have them as we see fit, but he will be their head."

Sansa nodded slowly. "And what of your name?"

"Jon has the opportunity to carry on the Targaryen House. As it stands, I am the only known named member. It is his birth name, but not the name people know."

"But what of your children?"

Dany's eyes dropped to her lap and Sansa retreated a bit in her seat. Clearly, she'd touched a nerve for Daenerys and she hadn't intended to do such. "I was told once that I could never bear children."

Sansa shook her head. "I apologize."

Jorah stared at her intensely. His face was full of sorrow for her pain. Reaching for her hand, he hesitated, realizing they were not alone, but she grabbed his hand tightly in between the two of hers.

"You didn't know," said Daenerys quietly. "What matters is what he wants," She said and looked at Jon.

"I would like to be named legitimate, but the Aegon bit seems a bit messy," He sighed.

"Jon Aegon Targaryen - First of His Name. Warden Commander of the Seven Kingdoms. Protector of the Realm. The people's man," Daenerys said confidently. She eyed Sansa, who was smirking in kind.

"A lofty title," She said.

Jon smiled slightly and nodded. "If it pleases my Queens."

"Aye," Sansa said.

"Aye," Daenerys repeated.

The table resounded with "aye," and eyes settled on Jorah, who was still staring at Daenerys, longing to be able to give her what she truly wanted more than anything - a child.

Sensing the attention on him, he cleared his throat and looked away from his intended. "Aye," He said. His voice was gravelly.

"It's settled then," Sansa said, and Dany nodded, and then Dany glanced at Jorah.

He smiled at her and nodded once. She was so beautiful. Before he'd betrayed her and been discovered and then, rightfully, banished, he'd hoped for a romantic relationship with her. After he returned and was forgiven, he hoped only to remain at her side for the rest of his life, to serve her fully and well. Now, their romance was beyond any of his wildest dreams. He loved her more fully than he'd ever loved anyone or anything in his entire life.

She blushed a bit at the intensity of his stare and he looked away to spare her.

"What of wedding planning?" Sansa inquired.

"After the reparations of King's Landing are finished, we will marry. During the reparations, we will travel to the kingdoms, including yours if you will have us, to greet the people, and to provide supplies and monetary war reparations."

Bronn cleared his throat and said, "Your Grace, if you would be so kind as to take your Master of Coin with you on such a journey. It would be useful to see the Kingdoms so that I might, eh, assess their needs."

"Ser Bronn. Your request for a tour of the Kingdoms is poorly disguised as a professional interest," Tyrion said heavily, and then the table laughed.

"Jorah will go with me, as will my Master of Coin, my Hand, and either the Warden Commander and the Captain of my Queensguard. Of course, Drogon will fly overhead. Ser Brienne will remain behind to oversee reparations and she and Ser Jaime will continue training our new enlistments."

The dinner continued amicably. Stories were shared and bonds were made and strengthened. After dinner, both Jorah and Dany felt confident of their personal and political relationship to Sansa and the North. Still, Jorah was quiet.

"What's bothering you?" Dany asked.

"Nothing, Khaleesi," He said softly.

"You're a terrible liar."

"I know you want children..."

"I do, but it's impossible."

"You did not hear all of the witch's words. You were grieving for Khal Drogo," He said lowly. She looked at him in confusion. "She ended saying that, 'when your womb quickens and you bear a live child, then he will return to you.'"

"He cannot return to me. He is dead," She said and her eyes turned glassy.

"Do you believe this blood magic? Perhaps her words were as manipulative as her deeds. Her deed qualified only in the least possible way."

"I don't know."

"I'm not one for prophecies. We make our own justice, our own luck, our own destiny. You are living, breathing proof of that," He said and held her face between her hands.

She smiled at him as she stared into his blue eyes. "You want children still?"

"I admit the thought has not crossed my mind for many years, but the desire for children has not changed."

"And if I can't give you children?"

"I will love you alfl the same every day for the rest of my life."

"Well, pregnancy or not will not be for lack of trying," She whispered and pressed her mouth to his. He laughed against her lips and tangled his hands in her hair.


	14. Chapter 14

"_There is a swelling storm_

_

And I'm caught up in the middle of it all

And it takes control

Of the person that I thought I was

The boy I used to know" ~ Waves: Dean Lewis

_

Their tour of the six kingdoms went really well. The people were happy with their new Queen, and they were happier still to be rid of Cersei's tyranny. The southerners paid Jorah no real mind. The nobles were respectful enough, even the ones that knew him from before Daenerys. The common people was where Jorah thrived. He was empathetic and kind, but also wise and his very presence demanded respect and attention. Daenerys would often turn around to find Jorah and Davos, who had also joined them, surrounded by children. Davos would be telling tales of their journeys, and Jorah would be listening intently as Davos recounted the stories.

These were the moments that Dany loved watching Jorah most. He was never completely unguarded. Too many years of service had taught him to be otherwise, and he always had at least one eye on her, but he was relaxed in a way that she saw very rarely during those times.

Once, a bit outside the Twins, Davos and Tyrion were telling a rather animated story about the Battle of Winterfell. Daenerys walked quietly up behind Jorah. He stiffened when he felt her presence directly behind him, but relaxed when she touched his shoulder. The children looked at her in awe.

"Do you know that Ser Jorah is one of the bravest heroes of Winterfell?" Dany asked the children. Her eyes lit up as she spoke to them.

Jorah didn't like that kind of attention and he stiffened again. His eyes moved to the grass under his boot and he pressed his foot hard into the dirt several times as a way of distracting himself from the attention.

"No way! How come you didn't say anything, Ser?" One of the boys asked.

"There isn't much to tell, I'm afraid," He shifted uncomfortably. "I was injured. I don't remember much."

Dany sat next to him. "Do you want to know that tale?"

Davos and Tyrion raised their eyes with interest. Truthfully, they were as intrigued as the children. Davos had seen Jorah run off toward Daenerys, but hadn't seen him fight, and Tyrion was in the crypts. Neither Jorah nor Daenerys spoke of that particular moment plainly with anyone. Both of them were greatly traumatized by the events, so Dany's willingness to speak about it was shocking.

The children's eager responses brought a smile to Daenerys' face. "I saved Jon. You've all heard of Jon, yes? He used to be Jon Snow, but now he's Jon Targaryen."

"'Course we know Jon!" Another boy said.

"He's cute!" One girl added.

Dany laughed. "I landed my dragon to save Jon just outside the castle, and Drogon breathed fire on the nearby dead. Jon went back to the castle to help the others. Before I could fly away, the dead overwhelmed Drogon. He accidentally shook me off of him whilst he was trying to shake off the wights. I fell to the ground and the dead quickly surrounded me." The children gasped altogther. Their mouths hung open and their eyes widened. "Just as the dead got close enough to me to strike, Ser Jorah appeared."

"How'd he know where you were?" A blonde girl asked. She was quickly elbowed by a boy who looked a little older than she and was definitely related to her. "Sorry. Your Grace," she added.

"Why don't you tell them, Jorah?"

Jorah looked at her. He looked anxious, but finally said, "I heard Drogon crying out into the night. I knew the queen had been riding him, so I ran to find them."

"He picked me up off of the ground and battled against the wights. At first, I didn't even have a weapon to help him," She said and they gasped.

"_You're _the Great Bear Knight?" One boy asked in surprise.

"I've been called a lot of things, lad, but never that," Jorah said. His eyebrow was raised and he looked to Daenerys, who smiled brightly.

"You've heard this story before?"

"Yeah! He wouldn't stop fighting until you were safe. He's a hero!"

"No, I'm no hero," Jorah said quietly. "It was my duty."

"I thought the Great Bear Knight died?" A girl asked.

"He was badly injured. He nearly died of his wounds, and then again of infection," Daenerys paled as she answered the question.

"Didn't he beat the Kingslayer too?"

"Not cleanly," Jorah said. He was always downplaying his success.

"Your Grace?" Jon called to Daenerys.

Dany turned and followed Jon and began speaking with several soldiers. Jorah eyed her over his shoulder as a woman called the children away for play.

"You really don't think you're a hero?" Davos asked with a chuckle.

"I wasn't doing it to be a hero."

"Aye. But you weren't just doing your duty either," Davos said and raised an eyebrow at Jorah. "A man only does that for the woman he loves."

"I couldn't lose her," He said.

"And she couldn't lose you. Worked out all right. Aye?"

"Aye."

Jorah looked out at the vast rolling hills in the distance. His eyes narrowed as he lost himself in his own thoughts. Their journey of the six kingdoms came to an end here. Tomorrow, they would trek north. The tour would end with Winterfell, but first they would visit Bear Island. If Jorah were totally emotionally transparent with himself, he would admit he had overwhelming anxiety about returning to his birthplace. Honestly, he didn't really want to go back. Though he'd been forgiven by Lyanna, he'd lost everything in Bear Island. It was a representation of one of his greatest sources of shame, and pain.

"Mormont?" Davos called. Jorah snapped back to reality and cleared his throat as he looked at Davos. "Are you excited to see Bear Island once again?"

"No," Jorah said in a gruff voice.

"Why ever not? Lady Lyanna forgave you. She said you were welcome."

"I carry ghosts with me all the time, Ser Davos, and I imagine they will be louder there," Jorah said.

"Perhaps you can finally lay those ghosts to rest once we get there."

Jorah didn't say anything, and Davos hadn't really expected him to. Jorah was a quiet man, reserved, and never wasted words. He was well-spoken, and when he did speak, people listened. Truthfully, Jorah hadn't considered what Davos had suggested before. It was an intriguing idea, though Jorah assumed some things would always hurt. Perhaps the trip to Bear Island would be terribly wonderful. Or wonderfully terrible.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: 10 reviews for some fluff and lemons next chapter?? What do you say?

_"If I could turn back the clock, I'd make sure the light defeated the dark. I'd spend every hour, of every day keeping you safe." ~ You Are The Reason by Calum Scott_

Walking through the housing outside of the gates of Bear Island, narrowed, disapproving, and skeptical eyes followed Jorah the entire way. The Northerners paid little mind to Daenerys, Drogon above in the sky, Davos, Tyrion, or Grey Worm. Jon, however, was greeted warmly.

As they approached the gate, Jorah stopped slightly behind Daenerys and Jon. The gate opened expectantly, and a man Jorah had not seen in many years stepped forward.

"Hello. We are here at Lady Mormont's invitation," Daenerys said politely as Drogon landed on the cliffs just above them to their left.

The man looked her over once. His grey eyes were as cold and calculating as Jorah remembered, and then he glanced at the dragon and his face showed cool indifference, a trait amongst Northerners that Daenerys had grown used to over the last couple of months, though she found it no less irritating.

"I know why you're here," He answered gruffly. "And where is he? Where is your 'Great Bear Knight,' Dragon Queen?" He said with disdain.

Jorah stepped out from behind Davos and Grey Worm. "Here," He said lowly.

"Come here, boy," The man said.

Daenerys held her hand up, signaling for Jorah to stop, but he shook his head slowly. "It's all right," He said and moved directly in front of the man.

"You were injured at Winterfell. Where?" The man asked him. He looked up and down Jorah's body.

"Here," Jorah repeated and gestured to his left side.

The man's left fist was quick to strike Jorah's right side. The blow brought him to his knees and his breath left him in one huge gasp. Daenerys stepped forward angrily, and Drogon growled behind them and leaned forward to attack.

"No!" Jorah coughed. "It's all right."

Daenerys' lip twitched angrily, but she backed off and signaled to Drogon that it was okay. Jorah looked up at the man as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Your father wanted me to kill you if you ever came back here. And here you are... Betrothed to a Targaryen. You know...It's a shame you look just like him," He said and grabbed Jorah's chin roughly.

"For him? Or for me?" Jorah asked.

Then, the man smiled, and pulled Jorah to his feet. He held out his right hand, and Jorah took it firmly in his own. "It is good to see you, you know, despite what everyone else might think of you. I've known you since you were a babe."

Jorah nodded, and then turned back to Daenerys. "Your Grace, this is Darran Locke. He is the Master of Arms in Bear Island."

Daenerys looked disgusted at the exchange, but pulled her lips into a tight smile. "Pleasure," She said.

"I'm sure," The man chuckled. "You see, in the North, we handle our problems directly. That," He said and gestured to Jorah's side, "Was for the slave selling."

Jorah bowed his head. And Darran's attention moved away to Jon. "Well, I'll be damned. Jon Snow."

"Targaryen," Daenerys said with irritation. "Jon Targaryen."

"Right," Locke said. "You'll always be a wolf to me."

Jon smiled coolly and shook the man's hand. Jorah stepped back. Tyrion looked up at him. "You Northerners never fail to surprise... You really are a different breed."

Jorah smirked slightly, and then stretched his side slightly. It ached, but not too badly. Glancing at Drogon, he inclined his head to the great beast. If Drogon were offended by Jorah being injured, just as he had grieved his injuries, then he had truly accepted him as a suitable partner for his mother. Drogon looked displeased and puffed his chest out, but turned his head away in way of accepting the occurrences.

Locke moved to lead the group into Bear Island, but Daneerys grabbed his arm. "While I appreciate your customs, if you should lay another hand on my betrothed, I will personally cut it from your wrist."

"Oh, I do not doubt that at all," Locke answered evenly and winked at her, which only served to irritate her further.

They followed Locke into the castle grounds, and Lyanna Mormont approached them. Daenerys looked at Jorah. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," He said quietly and gave her a small smile.

"If you don't mind, the Hand of the Queen and I have some business to attend to," Bronn said.

"As long as it doesn't involve a brothel..." Daenerys said coolly.

Tyrion and Bronn frowned. Tyrion said, "Your Grace, you wound us. Our intentions are purely alcoholic."

"Go," She rolled her purple eyes.

They took their leave and headed to the tavern at the end of the way. Lyanna bowed to Daenerys, who returned the gesture with a deep nod of her own.

"Lady Mormont, you are looking well," She said politely.

"As are you. And you, cousin," She looked at Jorah.

Jorah smiled. "My lady," He greeted her. His heart was suddenly filled with sadness as he looked at her young face. In another life, he would've been a good family member to her, but that was not this life. Now, there would always be distance, but mutual respect, familial ties, and a cordial relationship was the best he could hope for, and he had those things.

The group moved toward the castle, but Jorah found himself rooted firmly in place. His eyes moved about the grounds where he'd grown up, and where he'd learned nearly everything he would ever need to know about fighting and loyalty, and where he'd made one of his biggest mistakes. In another life, the same one that would have him in a better relationship with Lyanna, he would be Lord if tjs place.

Honestly, not much had changed in the years he had been gone, though that was typical of the North. Northerners were firmly rooted in tradition, and if it wasn't broken, they certainly weren't going to try to fix it.

"Everything all right, Mormont?" Davos asked him.

Jorah looked about the grounds once more before clearing his throat. He nodded, and then caught up with the group as Drogon soared overhead.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: You guys are amazing! Keep up the reviews! Hope you like this one!

_I have died everyday, waiting for you. _Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. _Time stands still. Beauty in all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this" ~ "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri _

Jorah heard footsteps approaching him from behind as he stood looking out over the cliffs and hills of Bear Island. Glancing over his shields, he caught a glimpse of Targaryen silvery hair.

"I never thought I would see this place again," He said quietly.

She touched her hand to his lower back and leaned her head against his muscular shoulder. "I am glad to be here with you to share in it."

He turned to her and glanced around them quickly. They were alone. Putting his hands on either side of her face, he looked deeply into her eyes. "Daenerys... There is no place for me in this world but at your side. The way that I feel for you..." He faltered. Normally a quiet man and more demonstrative than verbal man, Jorah's desire to speak was unnatural to him. She stared at him wide eyed. "There is no comparison for it. Nothing else could ever compare to you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I have... I have loved you for so many years, and never once did that love waver. This... This moment is beyond my wildest dreams."

"I'm so sorry you had to wait all those years," She said and her lip quivered slightly.

He shook his head. "I would wait a thousand more for one single second of this moment."

She smiled tearfully at him as he leaned down and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. He smiled, a rare and genuine smile, that brightened his entire face and touched his eyes.

A cough from off to the left disturbed them and Jorah quickly stepped back and put his hands behind his back. It was Jon. He looked embarassed at having seen such a private moment, but also a little sickened. "Your Grace, the Lady of Bear Island requests our presence at dinner."

She nodded and started walking back to the castle. Jorah followed, but Jon's hand caught his left arm. Jorah looked at the hand on his arm, and then to the black haired man. Daenerys stopped and turned, touching her hand to Jorah's back once more, uncertain of what Jon was doing.

"Might I speak with Ser Jorah alone for a moment, Your Grace?"

Dany looked at Jorah for his comfort level, and he nodded and she continued back toward the castle and stopped at the gate and waited for them, eyeing them from a distance.

"I love her, as complicated as that is for me, it's true. You know that, right?"

"Yes," Jorah narrowed his eyes.

"And you've loved her far longer." Jon's expression was pained.

"Yes," Jorah repeated evenly.

"I am happy for you," Jon said after a long pause. "Truly. Do not hurt her. She's been hurt enough." Jon's voice was low and held within it a warning.

Jorah cocked his head to one side. "You think I did not know that?"

Jon backtracked quickly, realizing the knight had bristled. "I know you have."

"Contributing to any pain she has ever suffered will be my greatest regret until my dying day," Jorah said after a moment.

Jon nodded. "It will be mine as well."

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Jorah moved away toward Daenerys, but Jon called out to him. "It will be an honor to call you family."

His statement held significant weight. It had been a long time since someone had expressed pride in ties with him. Lyanna Mormont was kind, and generous, but she'd been largely naive to his flaws. Jon was not. He swallowed hard and then said, "It will be an honor to call you family as well."

At dinner, Daenerys discussed trade relationships with Lyanna Mormont and her advisors. Jorah mostly listened as he ate. He has truly missed Northern Ale. It was so much more full-bodied than the Southern brews. Then, Daenerys foot touched his. He jumped and stared at her. She made no outward sign that anything has happened. Perhaps it was an accident.

Then, her hand, which appeared to be folded in her lap beneath the table as she spoke, touched the inside of his thigh and he shivered. Her nails ran tiny circles over the inside of his leg and he fought very hard to contain himself. He felt himself growing hard, and he crossed his leg over the other to hide his arousal, and to shift it in his pants so that nobody could see should he stand. Her foot ran up and down his calf teasingly.

He suddenly felt very hot and could feel his face flushing. Downing more ale, he poured himself another drink. Dinner was nearing an end, but Jorah honestly didn't think he could wait for it. Never in his life had anyone teased him this way. Such a stoic man had never felt so at someone's mercy before, so teased, and struggled so much to control himself.

Before he lost himself entirely, he reached under the table and gripped her knee tightly in warning. Unfortunately, it seemed only to fuel her, as she pushed his hand further up her thigh. Jorah glanced around the table as dessert was cleared. Nobody was any wiser to what she was doing to him, and he ground his teeth together.

After Lyanna bid them goodnight, he followed Daenerys back to their rooms a bit awkwardly as he was fully erect and already wet at the top. Once the door closed, he descended on her, picking her up and pushing her back against the stone wall. Her legs wrapped around his as he devoured her mouth.

"You wicked woman," He said. "You nearly had me emptying myself in my trousers like a boy."

She laughed sexily against his mouth, and tangled her hands in his strawberry hair. Pulling her underwear down quickly, he felt how wet she was for him already, and he groaned loudly.

"Give it to me," She growled.

No frills. No romancing. No more foreplay. He thrust inside her fully and shuddered at the feel of her sex tightening around his length. "Gods, Dany," He mumbled against her neck as he bit lightly on the sensitive skin there.

Her nails dragged hard across his scarred back, and he moaned as he thrust hard into her. The angle he had her in was one that hard her crying out quickly. She bit her lip to stifle the noise, but he could hear the quickening and strengthening whimpers against his ear.

His own release was quickly approaching. Blood rushed from all over his body to below his hips, and he felt like a mad man as he chased their release. And suddenly there were there, falling over the edge together, muffled cries buried into each other's necks. He held her tightly against his body as they calmed their breathing down, and he realized then that he held in his arms the only person in the world that truly mattered to him, and he sighed and pulled her even closer.


	17. Chapter 17

"_Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arm. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful... I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight." ~ "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran_

On their wedding day, Jorah paced nervously in the guest quarters. He hadn't seen Daenerys since last night at dinner. It struck him how dependent he'd become upon her constant presence. He'd spent months and months away from her, banished and then ill, but now mere hours away were agonizing.

The couple had done all of their formal feasts yesterday, and today they left solely to the wedding and party. The septon walked up to Jorah. "If you are ready, Ser Jorah, we can make our way?"

His mouth went suddenly very dry, and he nodded. Jorah was dressed more formally than he'd been in his entire life, even as a Northern highborn. He was dressed in fine form fitting silver colored clothes with shined black dress boots. There were beautifully intricate and delicate designs embroidered across his chest and arms. His cape was a deep, rich black on the outside, with silver designs embroidered on it as well, but the inside of the cape was the Mormont green. Daenerys had hand designed his wedding day attire, and he was grateful for that fact because he wouldn't have had the faintest clue where to start. His hair was neatly parted and combed, and his beard had been cleaned up and trimmed.

As he followed the septon down the aisle, he stood tall as he moved between the rows of honored guests. His trembling hands struggled to steady themselves. When he reached the front of the hall, the septon led him up to the first platform on the steps, and gestured for Jorah to stand next to to him and face the audience. Jorah had never been more nervous in his entire life, and he'd done this already twice, so he clasped his hands tightly in front of him as he waited patiently.

Then, the hall quieter, and the great wooden doors opened, revealing his bride, on the arm of her only living relative - Jon Targaryen. He blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay, but could not stop one from trickling down his cheek as he looked at her. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes upon in his entire life and she was _his _bride. She was tearing up and smiling at him brightly. Her dress was silver in color, with a long embroidered train, and it fit every single curve on her body just perfectly. Though she was pale, the silver in the dress added to her complexion. Her crown was a beautiful silver, with the spikes on it being delicately carved dragon wings. In the center, there was a bright red jewel the glimmered as he stared at it. The crown was new, forged for their wedding day.

Jon led her up the steps slowly, and Jorah noticed him truly for the first time. His hair was neatly combed and his beard had been trimmed as well. He wore an ornate black outfit, with a wolf and dragon facing each other embroidered upon his chest. He smiled at Jorah, nodded, kissed Dany's cheek, and Jorah saw a moment of pain flash across his face. It was gone as quickly as it'd come and he walked down the steps into the crowd.

He locked eyes with Dany. "You look beautiful," He whispered. She smiled and blushed slightly. The septon cleared his throat.

"You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection," He said loudly.

Jorah unfastened his cloak, and she turned her back to him slightly, allowing him a full look at the shimmering and nearly see through back of her gown, and her braided hair. She pulled the bottom part of her hair out of his way as he laid his cloak on her shoulders. She turned to him and he stepped closer to her and she was smiling as he tied the cloak loosely around her neck.

The septon spoke for a couple of minutes, but Jorah and Dany did not hear a single thing he'd said. Then, he looked back the couple and grabbed their left hands and instructed them to clasp each other's hand. They obeyed.

"By the Light of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls," He said as he wrapped a piece of green and cream braided ribbon and a piece of black and red braided ribbon around their hands. He continued, "Binding them as one for eternity," He said and touched his hands to theirs. Then, he stepped back, and instructed, "Look upon one another, and say the words."

Jorah and Daenerys turned to face each other more fully. The spoke in perfect unison: "Father, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his/hers, and he/she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

The crowd waited in anxious anticipation as the ribbons were withdrawn from their hands. Jorah moved his hands slowly to either side of her face, cradling her head lovingly. He stepped forward, as her right hand found his waist, and her left hand touched his face. Their lips met, and the crowd erupted into jubilant applause. She was smiling against his mouth, and he couldn't help but return the grin as he pulled back from her.

"Now, then, Ser Jorah, if you would please kneel," The high septon said.

Jorah kneeled before his bride, his queen, as Jon approached Dany. She turned and picked up Jorah's crown. He'd yet to see it, and he stared at it in wonder. Never in his life did he expect to wear a crown, or be a king. The silver crown had a thin band, that was made of thin carved silver tree branches on one side, and a slender, scaled, and winding dragon's body on the other. They forged together in the back. At the front of the crown, there was a small dragon's head and a bear's head holding up a smaller red jewel, one that matched Dany's exactly. It was a crown that represented everything he had been, and everything he would be, and he loved it. It was simple in design, not gaudy at all. Dang smiled as he looked at it.

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, The first of her name, queen of the Andals and the First Men, The Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons, crowns her husband as King, Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, to rule beside her."

Daenerys placed the perfectly fitted, light feeling crown on his head, and the Septon, said, "Rise, Jorah Mormont, as King, and walked with Queen Daenerys."

Jorah stood slowly.

"Queen Daenerys Targaryen - Long May she reign!" The septon yelled.

"Long may she reign!" The crowd cheered.

"King Jorah Mormont - long may he reign!"

"Long May he reign!"

The people began to chant. "Long live the Queen! Long live the King!" As they made their way slowly, arm in arm, from the steps and throne to the hall exit. The cheers of the crowd echoed in Jorah's head.


End file.
